Candyman vs. Candyman: Why Reclamation Was Needed

     

    

    

    Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman- … Despite the arguably insulting representations put forth in the original 1992 version of the film written and directed through the white lens of Bernard Rose, the precedent of the power in the name was established to later be beautifully translated in the 2020 version thanks to the vision of Nia DaCosta, Jordan Peele, and Win Rosenfeld. To me, the issues of Black criminality, demonizing Blackness, and the evoking fear of life in the “urban” and “ghetto” projects that are conveyed in Rose’s movie are wildly apparent and feel intentional as a viewer. Historical context is key, and I feel as though the original movie outlines America’s motives of Black criminality in urban spaces through the coining of “superpredators” where the effects have stood the test of time. Candyman isn't just a monster and his Blackness extends beyond his character’s position in the story and is central to his “scariness” and “evilness”. 

       Putting it simply, Tony Todd deserved better. However, Todd’s dedication to the role of Candyman is the reason for its iconic status in the horror genre through it all, from the use of live bees to his immaculate clothing and being the voice of the film's most chilling quotes. Despite being told through the gaze of a white man for the gaze of a white audience, the story allowed for DaCosta’s much-needed rendition that celebrates the good of Tony Todd’s work as the Candyman and extends his purpose as an entity outside of being a monstrous Black man and into a powerful avenger for the Black community in America.
     
       Candyman longed to be reclaimed and re-told for Black people. In the 2020 version, Candyman is no longer trauma porn central, and the film respects the need for the cinematic representation of Black trauma to be told through Black perspectives. Candyman is also no longer just the Black boogieman and the film gives him a purpose of seeking actual revenge instead of insensibly killing his own people. The end significantly highlights how if used correctly, Candyman be weaponized to save Black lives, specifically from the racist and corrupt institutional forces established from policing and the American justice system. The horror in the 2020 version isn’t just in Candyman, his unsettling transformation, and the film’s realistic gore, it's also in very real things for Black people like gentrification, reliving racial trauma, the fears of being seen as a monster in America, and especially the brutality of policing and the fear that is evoked from their mere presence. The greatest message of the 2020 version is that if and when used correctly, Candyman’s power can be reclaimed and recentered to benefit Black people as we navigate these very real fears throughout life. 

“TELL EVERYONE.”